


Stay the Night

by StrawberryHouse



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryHouse/pseuds/StrawberryHouse
Summary: !! WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS !!Please read at your own risk! This work does contain spoilers for NDRV3!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place during the killing game right after chapter 4, but there is some canon divergence before that chapter as well (which you will be able to tell). I tried to make the rest as canon compliant as possible, but I did change a few things. Also, bear in mind that even though I've seen the entire game, I have VERY little understanding of the context due to the language barrier. Not everything may be 100% accurate, so I took some creative freedom with it. I apologize if any divergence or inaccuracy makes it unenjoyable. 
> 
> But I really had fun writing this! Ever since the promotional art came out, I've shipped Oumami and they've become very dear and comforting to me. Even if they become a rare pair, I will still be here with the SAMPLE artwork as my desktop background, lol. I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoy writing about them c:

Several lives had been lost since the killing game began, and tensions were running high amongst the remaining students. Ouma had pretty much isolated himself from the rest, as most of them seemed to find him untrustworthy and dangerous. Despite that, Ouma still seemed to occasionally forget to lock his door.

Since the beginning, Ouma had been doing his homework the whole time. A large board with images of his fellow students, be it deceased or alive, were pasted among a large board in his bedroom. He had lines draw from some, indicating the victims and their killers, and the survivors were kept separated. Occasionally, Ouma would run himself dry and he’d doodle pictures on the board in his mental numbness, but other times he found himself staring at one image on the board in particular. His chest would tighten as he’d try to smile it off, to _just forget it already, it’s been done and other people have died since then_.

But after the last trial, the image had disappeared from the board. He started carrying it around with him in case he ever needed to calm down from sudden hysteria. Of course, once Ouma was in his bedroom, he didn’t need it as much, thanks to Angie’s artistic abilities. How he was lucky enough to obtain a life-sized statue of his late beloved was mind-boggling, but he tried not to dwell on the possibility that Angie could have died before then. Then again, if she had died, maybe _he_ would have still been there, still breathing.

It was a burden Ouma carried with him everyday, and it only motivated him to find a way to end the killing once and for all. He had to, even if it meant doing drastic things. He had to keep from getting too attached to the others, and he had to make sure they wouldn’t get attached to him, either. But most of all, he wanted to trick the mastermind in their own game.

But doing so wasn’t easy, and it required a lot of energy and time snooping around the prison school. Ouma wore himself ragged, so much so that he’d forget to do tasks such as eating dinner or locking his bedroom door. How could he gang up on the mastermind if he let his guard low enough that they could just waltz right into his room?

One particular night had him completely wiped. Ouma started to fall short on his investigations, but he figured having at least one night of decent sleep wouldn’t hurt. After all, what good was stopping the mastermind if you were too feeble? Ouma walked into his room, his head slouched down as he blinked through heavy lids, and prepared to undress for bed.

But something wasn’t quite right. It sounded as if there was a presence in the room, like someone was breathing down his neck. Ouma stopped immediately in his tracks as he tried to pull his guard back up, in preparation for anything he was about to face.

“If you’re trying to kill me, give up. I know you’re there. You’ll have to do much better than that.”

Ouma let out a sinister laugh as he brought his finger to his lips; a sly smile spread on his face. There was no immediate response, though, but Ouma wasn’t convinced that he was hearing things. He lacked sleep, yes, but he had keen senses. In hindsight, Ouma should have at least held something to protect himself before bending down by the bed. He never thought he’d actually find a monster under his bed.

“Under the bed trick? Aw, how disappointing. I half expected one of you to pull off a better stunt than this.”

Upon lifting the bed skirt, Ouma could only see a dark mass under the bed, but it was clearly a person. Eventually, the figure shuffled out from under the bed on the opposite side. When Ouma stood back up, he froze as the figure became easily identifiable.

“Eh? Shit! Someone must have poisoned me. Or this is a bad fever dream. Monokuma must have planted some kind of disease on us.”

Ouma looked towards his board pensively while biting the tip of his thumb as the figure, whose back had been facing him, turned around.

Once Ouma finally let their eyes meet, the tightness in his chest intensified and his breaths grew shallow.

He knew those soft, gentle eyes anywhere, and he always remembered how they glistened between those long, beautiful eyelashes. What kind of sick motive was that? Was Monokuma really cruel enough to tease the living like that? It was unreal. It just _couldn’t_ be real. There was _no_ way.

“Ouma-kun, listen. You can’t tell anyone that you saw me, okay? I need you to-”

 _That voice_. He really was real. Ouma hadn’t realized how artificial the voice in his memories was until he heard it again.

“How? How are you here?”

Ouma’s hands balled into fists, his eyes moved to the ground as a hysterical smile crept on his face.

“Ah, I knew this wouldn’t go over easily. Look, I don’t expect you to fully understand right now, but you have to pretend I’m still dead.”

“You want me to do _what_?”

“It’s a lot for me to explain right now, please do this one thing for me and just-”

“I thought you _died_ , Amami! I saw your corpse and I fucking cried in front of everyone and had to play it off as crocodile tears! I had to call other people my ‘beloved’ because I let it slip out when you died! How do you expect me to just be okay?”

Ouma’s voice slipped on his last word. He fought back authentic tears as his eyes avoided the boy before him. Amami seemed somewhat speechless, but there was a sad look in his eyes, which Ouma could only figure was guilt.

“I didn’t do this to hurt you, or anyone else for that matter. I did this because I have to. I tried cornering the mastermind and have them executed but Akamatsu let herself die and that shouldn’t have happened. If you want me to put a stop to this once an for all you have to let me go.”

Ouma let tears roll down his cheeks as he kept his firm gaze planted on the ground. Just looking at the boy in front of him was too painful.

“So many more people have already died since then. It’s not like what you’re doing is working.”

“The situation isn’t that easy. You of all people should know that. You have to take risks.”

“Seeing you _dead_ wasn’t easy, and now you just expect me to forget I saw you? My chest hurts every fucking day thinking about the fact you’re gone and you’re supposed to just expect me not to react when you suddenly reappear?”

“Ouma-kun, please.”

Ouma suddenly got down on the bed and crawled to the other side where Amami was standing. He got up and pushed his body into the taller boy, arms wrapped around his torso as he let himself lose all composure.

“You were the only one, Amami-chan! You were the only one who’d eat dinners with me, who’d entertain me, who’d even smile at me. You were the only one who was on my side. I had to isolate myself and keep from getting too attached to anyone else!”

Ouma paused briefly as his sobbing stopped him from speaking coherently.

“Please, Amami-chan. Just let me stand here a while longer. I want to hear your heart beating in your chest. I want to feel your fingers on my skin. I’ve dreamt about this so much since then. I want to know how you’re feeling and to see you smile again because….you’re _alive_.”

After what seemed like an eternal, uncomfortable silence, Ouma felt two hands grip the back of his head as a gentle kiss was planted on top of his head. Ouma was still so scared that he’d open his eyes and Amami would disappear, but his touch felt real.

“I’m so sorry, Kokichi.”

Ouma buried his face in Amami’s shirt, dampening it as the tears of relief and pain continued to flow. The very skin and flesh before him was the person he so desperately longed for, and he couldn’t waste another minute of that moment.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you, Rantarou. I love you so fucking much.”

His voice was hysterical before Amami pushed Ouma back onto the bed while still locked in an embrace. Amami moved a hand to gently swipe Ouma’s hair behind his ear before wiping tears off his cheeks. He then planted his hand on the side of Ouma’s face as his thumb brushed the soft skin repeatedly.

“I’ve stayed up many nights fighting back tears. It hurt to see you in pain like that, but I had to keep telling myself it was for your own good so I’d keep moving on.”

Ouma’s big, violet eyes just stared fondly at the gentle face in front of him. He could see in the corners of Amami’s eyes that there were tears about to fall.

“You don’t have to try so hard, you know that? If you need to cry, just do it. There’s no one else here.”

Amami’s thumb stopped suddenly before he pulled Ouma into his chest. The next thing Ouma knew, he heard the other boy sniffle, his chest spasmed as he finally let himself cry with his chin propped on top of Ouma’s head. There was something reassuring in knowing that he had not been the only one to suffer all that time.

“I let so many people die. People died because of _me_. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. If you died, I…I don’t know what I would do.”

Even through tears, Amami’s voice was calm. Ouma rubbed his face against Amami’s chest.

“We’ve all done things here. I mean, you’ve seen the things that I’ve done, too…It is game of survival.”

Amami’s body seemed to tense at the last word.

“I’ve seen this over and over and over again. It’s time for it to end.”

Ouma pulled his head out from the boy’s chest and stared into Amami’s vibrant, green-eyes.

“Ha…I haven’t felt my heart flutter like that in a while. It….feels good.”

Ouma couldn’t believe the words escaped his lips, but he wasn’t letting any time he had with Amami be taken for granted. He was going to be absolutely sure that he wouldn’t lie about his feelings for him ever again.

Amami placed his ringed fingers under Ouma’s chin before lifting his head up to his lips. Passion spilled out as the kiss intensified to opened-mouth; tongues clashed, desperate for contact, longing for one another. Amami pushed Ouma to his back gently on the bed before his hand wandered up Ouma’s shirt and all around his soft chest. Ouma was going to savor every moment of Amami’s touch. The shorter-boy let his hand wander under Amami’s shirt near his waist before tugging at the waistline of his pants. Amami suddenly pulled away, his half-lidded eyes stared back longingly into Ouma’s, as he lifted his shirts up over his head and tossed them aside. Ouma only had a second to marvel at his beautiful body, before Amami had pulled him back into the kiss, his hand lowering to Ouma’s pants.

“I love you,” Amami breathed into Ouma’s ear. Ouma grabbed the taller boy back down into another intimate kiss, savoring each taste. Their bodies pressed together and Ouma wanted them to mold into one, so that he’d never have to live without the other again. He wanted to be connected to him; he wanted the feeling of Amami inside of him.

“Rantarou, please.”

Ouma eyed the taller boy who loomed over him, saliva smeared on his lips. Amami had Ouma pinned to the bed, and all it took was for Ouma’s plea to get the boy to dive down for another kiss, that one fiercer than the others. Their breaths were sharp and loud through their nostrils, and hair ruffled as they pulled at one another. Amami unbuttoned his pants and tossed them down with his underwear before he helped Ouma out of his clothes in between kisses. Once they were both naked, Amami pulled Ouma up and sat him on his lap; his erection poked around Ouma’s ass.

Once Amami’s fingers were shed of their rings, Ouma took two of his fingers and sucked them thoroughly. His tongue lathered around and between each one, and he made a point to never break eye contact with Amami’s observant eyes. Amami’s other hand was squeezing Ouma’s ass, which only made the shorter boy even more aroused. As his fingers were properly moistened, Ouma wasted no time in pulling them towards his entrance, to which Amami willingly followed. Carefully, he slipped one finger in and let the withering boy get adjusted before adding the other. Ouma’s body tensed, his back arched as he shot his head up. Once Amami caught a good rhythm, the pain lessened and it felt much more pleasurable.

After a few minutes of prep, Amami slipped his fingers out and lifted Ouma’s hips above his hard cock. Ouma placed his hands on Amami’s shoulders and nodded his head, allowing the taller boy to pull his hips down. The sensation was _so painful_ , so overwhelming, but somehow he enjoyed that. For the first time since he saw Amami in the library, his head bloodied, he actually felt something other than numbness.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

Amami’s voice was full of concern; Ouma hadn’t realized he made a pained sound, but he prompted Amami to keep going. The other boy tried to keep his thrusts shallow, but Ouma started rolling his hips voluntarily. The harder he bounced on Amami’s cock, the more pleasured the other boy looked, and that alone was enough to make Ouma feel good too. Eventually, Amami wrapped his arms around Ouma’s back, pulling the boy closer, as he peppered his neck with sweet kisses. One hand reached for the back of Ouma’s head, his fingers buried under strands of hair, as Ouma let out whines of pure satisfaction. After a few harder thrusts, Amami lifted his lips to Ouma’s ear.

“I love you, Kokichi. I love you so much.”

His strained whisper edged Ouma closer to his peak, but most of all he was elated to finally hear those words from Amami.

“I-I love you too, ah! I love you!”

Ouma hadn’t noticed tears roll down his cheeks again until Amami pulled his head back and wiped them away. It felt like all his emotions were coming together in that one moment. His heartbeat accelerated and suddenly everything was so full of life that he screamed out, feeling warmth spurt from between his legs.

The room had gone completely white, and for a moment Ouma just existed. He existed without being aware of his surroundings, but he felt a feeling of contentment. Images of his time spent with Amami before his death played back in his mind, and he remembered how they had become almost inseparable. But even then, Amami was always preoccupied. He never stopped trying to get what information he could. Perhaps he wanted to put an end to it all, to save all of them, to save Ouma. Perhaps he found a reason to live, rather than just trying to survive.

And suddenly the room was back in color again, with only the sound of Amami’s pants. Ouma had fallen backwards after he came, while Amami finished. He wanted their bodies to never disconnect, to just remain as they were.

“So, how did you end up in my room anyway?” Ouma’s voice was low and gentle, but it helped bring him back to the present. Amami chuckled.

“I was being careless and almost got caught. I tried all the doors and thankfully you were the only other careless one of the bunch.”

Both boys shared a laugh before Ouma spoke again.

“We really are similar, huh?”

“It would seem. But I have a question for you, too. What exactly have you been doing with this statue of me?”

Ouma felt his cheeks immediately heat up. How had he forgotten that Amami would notice that? Instead of a response, Ouma just buried his face into his pillow before Amami finally pulled out and wrapped his arms around the shorter boy.

“Kokichi, I will see to it that we get out of here alive. I promise.”

Ouma pulled his head out from under the pillow and gave Amami a firm look.

“Can you at least promise me you’ll stay the night?”  

Amami squeezed Ouma closer to him.

“Of course.”

Ouma wasn’t sure if Amami would go off on his own again, or if Amami would even be able to keep that promise. The future was more uncertain than it ever was, but for the time being, Ouma couldn’t have felt more at peace.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for all of the tense changes and poor grammar. I need to proof read my work a lot more...but I hope you enjoyed! c:


End file.
